


Red Right Hand

by withdiamonds



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-14
Updated: 2005-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-16 23:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withdiamonds/pseuds/withdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic Bassez with child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Right Hand

“Daddy.”

“Daddy!”

 _“Daddy!”_ JC looked over at his daughter.

“Daddy’s on the phone right now, honey,” he said. The voice on the other end of the phone didn’t falter at the interruption, just kept talking about cities and dates and buses and all the mind-numbing details of the logistics of mounting a tour. JC actually preferred the chatter of a four year old to that, so when Chelsea said, ”Daddy!” again, this time in the imperious voice JC swore she and Justin practiced together every time he came to visit, he said into the phone, “Dude, hang on a sec.”

“What is it, sweetheart, what…” JC trailed off when he saw the expression on his daughter’s face. She was staring transfixed at a commercial on TV. Shit, he never should have let Chelsea watch TV while he talked to Eric. Lance was going to kill him.

Chelsea was chanting, “Look, daddy, look,” without taking her eyes off the screen.

With great trepidation, JC looked to see what was so fascinating--what had his daughter in its thrall enough that she was actually sitting still for more than one minute at a time. (If JC didn’t know better, sometimes he’d think that Chris had had a hand in her genetic make-up.)

As JC took in the full glory of what was appearing on his TV screen, he realized just how bad of a person he must have been in a previous life, for karma to have caught up with him this way.

He was immediately hit with a flashback of his mother dragging him out of a store, shortly after he’d gone to live with his family, and he still remembered the panic in the grip she had on his hand, until she scooped him up into her arms and ran to the car. That’s all he really remembered about that day, how for that one terrifying moment her fear had communicated itself to him, while they bolted for safety.

Well, that, and the ugly, scary faces on the Cabbage Patch Kid dolls that all those people in the store had been fighting over. He remembered voices raised in anger, and women with their faces distorted in fury.

And now some sick toy company was trying to do it all over again. Bastards.

He shivered and looked back at the TV, staring into the face of some of his worst childhood nightmares.

Any hope JC cherished that Chelsea’s determination to possess one of the new, improved Cabbage Patch Kids would fade before Lance came home diminished as the afternoon wore on. JC swooped down on her as soon as he realized what was happening, practically dropping her into the pool. “Daddy, I’m not wearing my bathing suit,” Chelsea scolded him, wiping water out of her eyes.

“Hey, sometimes it’s fun to swim in your clothes,” JC said, desperately, hoping Chelsea wouldn’t decide this might be something she’d want to do everyday.

“Daddy, did you see?” Chelsea’s eyes glazed over as she spoke, reminding JC of Justin when he spotted a pair of shoes he didn’t own yet. That was a scary, scary thought.

“See what, honey?” JC asked, without a hope in the world that Chelsea was talking about anything other than those lumpy-faced objects of evil. He desperately wished Lance were here.

“The dolls, daddy. The Cabbage Patch dolls,” she said, as if he were being completely dense.

“No, sweetie, I didn’t see,” JC lied. He was so going to hell for lying to his daughter.

“Daaaddy.” Chelsea frowned at him disapprovingly. He felt like the worst father in the world, with her big blue eyes fixed reproachfully on his own. “I want one,” she sighed blissfully.

JC’s heart sank. He could never deny Chelsea anything she truly wanted. In the two years since she had come to live with him and Lance, neither one of them had developed any immunity whatsoever to that particular expression. They were putty in her chubby little hands.

The first two years of Chelsea’s life had been spent in the foster care system, and that was something JC could never forget. So when Chelsea spent the rest of the afternoon prattling animatedly about Cabbage Patch Kids, JC had no choice but to nod and smile. He even got caught up in her excitement in spite of himself. Well, as long as he didn’t think about those horrible dolls in too much detail, he did.

He made a valiant effort over the course of the afternoon to distract her, though. After they clambered out of the pool and got dressed in dry clothes, he took her to McDonalds, and to the park to walk the dogs. Then they came home and colored in Chelsea’s Fairly Oddparents coloring book. JC thoroughly enjoyed himself, making Chip Skylark’s jacket pink, and blacking out his teeth.

By the time Lance got home, JC was exhausted. Chelsea, however, was not.

“Daddy, daddy, guess what, guess what? Guess what I saw? I want one, Daddy, please?” She threw herself into Lance’s startled arms, chattering excitedly while planting wet kisses all over his face.

Lance raised an eyebrow and peered at JC over Chelsea’s tumbled curls. JC was torn between relief that there was finally someone else to share his pain, and fear that Lance would make him go shopping for Chelsea’s Christmas present all by himself as penance for letting her watch TV unsupervised.

“Can we watch TV after dinner, Daddy?” Chelsea pleaded, looking back and forth between JC and Lance. “Maybe we can see it again!”

Lance, who was even more susceptible to Chelsea’s charms than JC, nodded, because he had no idea what she was talking about.

JC’s heart sank. They were doomed.

[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/withdiamonds/pic/000bxges/)

Over the next few weeks, JC did his damnedest to divert Chelsea’s attention away from the creepy dolls she was so smitten with, but nothing he did worked out the way he wanted it to.

"JC, honey, I really think it'll be different this time," his mother tried to reassure him. There was a thoughtful silence while JC waited for her to tell him it would all be okay. "I'll admit, it was a pretty wild scene back then. Did it really scare you that badly? I'm sorry, I did't realize that."

"No, no, well, okay, yes. They're just so..."he trailed off helplessly. "I don't know. Lance thinks it'll be fine."

"Well, then," his mom said bracingly. "You just trust Lance, then, sweetie."

JC rolled his eyes. His mother's faith in Lance's ability to handle anything was touching, if a bit misplaced. Lance was good, but he wasn't omnipotent.

He tried letting Justin entertain Chelsea, but he just encouraged her instead, laughing at JC when he scowled and made cutting motions across his throat.

Chris cackled hysterically until JC asked him if he remembered any of his sisters wanting one of the ugly things. He looked thoughtful for a minute, “Yeah, I remember. I think my mom tried to make one for Emily, but it didn’t turn out so good. It was all lumpy and weird-looking.”

“Well, duh, man. That’s how they’re supposed to look.” But JC decided to shut up and let Chris laugh. It was his sole concession to the madness.

Joey was the only one who expressed any sympathy at all for their plight. “Dude, one time Briahna wanted this video game that me and Kel couldn’t find anywhere. Life was pure hell until we managed to get hold of one.” He shook his head, shivering slightly at what was clearly a very traumatic memory.

JC was not encouraged.

[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/withdiamonds/pic/000by6ky/)

“Christmas is in a month,” Lance said thoughtfully as JC licked a trail from his right nipple to his navel. JC wasn’t really listening, swirling his tongue in circles around Lance’s bellybutton, watching as Lance raised his hips and shimmied, trying to get JC’s tongue to go a bit lower.

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed into the soft skin over Lance’s hipbone.

“Chels is gonna get tons of stuff from everyone. I know Justin is buying her about 25 pairs of shoes.” Lance gasped as JC nosed around in his pubic hair, catching some of it between his lips and pulling. “My mom’s been shopping for months.” JC put his hands under Lance’s thighs and lifted, and Lance scooted around until his ass was in just the right place for JC’s mouth to reach it. “And I know your mom’s gonna go crazy, shopping for her only grandchild.” He moaned as JC’s tongue swiped over his balls, and then lower, flicking against his opening. “But I think you and I should get her one of those Cabbage Patch Kids.” He groaned as JC turned his head and bit down gently on the inside of his thigh.

JC was used to Lance talking during sex, although usually it was more along the lines of “God, you rock” and “C, your mouth” and “Harder, come on, you fucker, harder.” So it took him a while to tune into the actual words coming out of Lance’s mouth. As their meaning penetrated his lust-fogged brain, he froze.

“C, come on, don’t stop,” Lance whined. He wiggled his hips enticingly, but JC ignored him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he demanded, raising his head to glare at Lance indignantly.

Lance let his knees fall open farther and wiggled again, and it almost worked, JC was almost distracted enough by the sight of Lance spread out like that to forget what he had said. Almost.

“What? Why’d you stop?” Lance struggled to sit up. “JC?”

“You want us to buy her one of those, those, those _things?_ ” JC planted a hand in the middle of Lance’s chest and pushed him back down on the bed. “No _way_ , Lance,” he glowered.

“Come on, JC,” Lance coaxed. He reached up to touch JC’s face, his fingers soft and gentle. “You know how much she wants one.”

“That doesn’t mean, you know, that, um, we have to get her one,” JC said. He was getting lost in Lance’s eyes, and starting to lose focus, dammit.

“I think you should finish what you started, and maybe we can talk about this later.” Lance smiled blindingly at him and JC groaned. He lifted Lance’s legs and settled them over his shoulders, reaching for the lube.

“Okay, but I think you’re gonna owe me, big time,” JC said as he slicked up two fingers.

“Deal,” Lance gasped and JC smiled.

[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/withdiamonds/pic/000bxges/)

Lance was determined to show JC that his fears were ungrounded, so he insisted they go shopping on a Saturday. JC thought Lance had become so used to relying on personal assistants to do the hard stuff for him that he was actually delusional about the real world. But far be it from him to deprive Lance of the joys of battling crazed crowds for their daughter’s Christmas present. Sometimes Lance needed to think he was a normal person. JC had given up on that idea a long time ago, but he thought Lance’s occasional attempts to be Joe Average were kinda cute.

However, JC drew the line at Lance’s hare-brained notion that they didn’t need any security to accompany them.

“Are you insane? That was a rhetorical question, by the way. You’ve obviously lost your mind completely.” JC looked at the stubborn tilt of Lance’s chin and shook his head. “We’re taking Lonnie,” he said firmly. After Chelsea came to live with them, Lonnie had returned from guarding the Federlines’s large brood to work for him and Lance again. “Or I’m not going,” he added.

They seemed to have reached an impasse, and JC felt a glimmer of hope that in the end Lance would see reason and agree that there were some things best entrusted to devoted assistants.

Lance reached across the breakfast table for the grape jelly. JC grabbed it and held it out of reach. “Can’t we just let Alison do this?” he tried one more time. “Please?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “JC, give me the jelly. Thank you. No, we can’t let Alison do this.” He looked over at Chelsea, who was watching them with interest. He winked at her and she giggled. JC smiled in spite of himself. “I think it’ll be fun to do it ourselves.”

JC resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. It wouldn’t help and it would set a bad example for his daughter. She had already picked up his habit of gnawing on his fingernails, even though he tried very hard to persuade her it was icky.

Tyler came in through the kitchen door. Chelsea squealed and jumped down from her chair, racing across the floor to fling herself at Tyler’s knees. He laughed and picked her up, swinging her around and narrowly avoiding using her feet to take out the row of wine glasses hanging in the rack over the counter by the refrigerator. “Hey, how’s my girl?”

“Daddy thinks Daddy is insane,” she informed her Uncle Tyler gravely.

Tyler snorted. “So what else is new, kid? Tell me something I don’t know.”

“We’ll be back in a couple of hours, Tyler. Don’t feed her sugar.” JC told his brother sternly.

“Dude, lighten up a bit. Wow.” Tyler shook his head. That was easy for him to say, JC thought darkly. He hadn’t even been born the last time Cabbage Patch Kids were on the loose.

“Bye, sweetheart.” Lance kissed Chelsea on the cheek and shooed her and Tyler out the door. JC waved at the back of their heads.

“I’ve been thinking. I think SANTA is an anagram. Just move two little letters around, and what do you have? SATAN.” He looked at Lance meaningfully. “Think about it.”

“I don’t think so, JC. I don’t think we can blame Satan this time.”

“Why not, man? Lance, I can’t do this. Those faces, I dream about them sometimes. Really,” he added, when Lance rolled his eyes.

“Please, JC, do not give me that sad story again. That was a long time ago, babe.“ His voice softened as he looked at JC’s face.

JC lowered his eyes and sipped his coffee. He supposed Lance was right. He needed to be a grown-up here and get a grip. He looked up. “Okay.” He straightened in his seat, squaring his shoulders resolutely. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”

Lance’s lips twitched, but he managed not to laugh, which JC was grateful for.

It was the last thing JC was grateful for for the rest of the day.

They vetoed Toys R US and Wal*Mart, and decided to head for Target, just as it opened. The parking lot was already full, and they had to drive around a bit before they found a parking space. So far, not too scary. JC started to relax, but there was no way he was letting his guard down. He would feel better if Lonnie wasn’t planning on staying in the car, but Lance had insisted that they would be fine. Lance’s mama had left him at home when she went looking for a Cabbage Patch Kid for Stacy back in the day, so Lance had no idea how wacko people could get over shit like this. He _should_ know, it wasn’t like he’d never been chased by crazy people before.

The store was deceptively calm as they slouched in through the front door, trying to be invisible. JC thought it would be unlikely that many of the people that had come to riot over lumpy-faced dolls were NSYNC fans. Sometimes their fans turned up in the most unexpected places, though, so he kept his head down and his hat pulled low over his eyes.

Lance poked him in the ribs with an elbow.

“What?”

Lance jerked his chin to the right. “Over there.” JC followed the movement with his eyes. The toy department had been expanded to contain the extra merchandise. For a moment, JC was paralyzed by the mountain of boxes, those hideous faces with their close-set eyes peering out at him, row after row after row, each one staring sightlessly at him.

“JC.” Lance elbowed him again. “It’s okay, they can’t hurt you. They aren’t real, JC.”

They began to inch their way through the gathering multitude, which had grown considerably during the few minutes that JC had been held motionless by the wall of evil round eyes.

An ominous rumbling sound started around them, rising slowly, and Lance and JC exchanged glances. They knew what that sound meant, knew how quickly it could escalate to the sound of pounding feet and the excited cries of hunters who have spotted their prey.

JC was busy flashing back and forth between memories of some of their more terrifying fan encounters, like that time in Spain when those girls thought Justin was offering them a ride on the bus instead of telling them what a nice city they lived in, when JC had almost lost the clothes he’d been wearing-- Justin’s Spanish still sucked; even to this day he had the most atrocious accent--and the feel of his mother pulling him out of the herd of frenzied women grasping at the elusive prize that would make their children’s Christmas perfect, because nothing less was acceptable. JC could empathize with that, really he could, but he didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it.

Lance grabbed his arm and said, “Come on, this way,” never taking his eyes off the stack of dolls. He started inching sideways as the murmur grew louder, building towards a crescendo.

JC glanced nervously around at the crowd, which was starting to surge towards the stacks of dolls, causing the nearby displays of color-coordinated dishes, towels, and lampshades to wobble ominously. Lance tugged him towards the right, working at a slight angle to the hordes of determined shoppers. His gaze never wavered from the dolls, as far as JC could tell. It was that kind of focus that JC appreciated in bed, but in this situation, he was afraid it just might get them trampled.

What it got them was close enough to the tower of boxes to make a grab for one. Unfortunately, it also meant that when the mob sneakily changed directions, Lance didn’t notice until they were almost engulfed.

“Oh, shit.”

JC certainly didn’t care what color or gender doll they managed to snatch, and when Lance looked like he might get picky about it, JC smacked him and said, “What the hell are you thinking? Who gives a shit what color dress it’s wearing, dude? We need to get the fuck out of here!” He seized the nearest box and clutched it to his chest.

They turned to head for the check-out counters, and JC realized with a sick sinking sensation that they weren’t out of the woods yet. They were facing the pack head-on, and JC was acutely aware that all the crazy crowds they’d faced in the course of a very successful career as popstars hadn’t in any way prepared them for this.

This time, though, Lance anticipated the crowd’s surge and he nudged JC’s arm. “This way,” he shouted in his ear. JC held on tight to the box holding the ugly doll dressed in…he spared a quick glance…a blue sleeper, with a tuft of yellow yarn sprouting out of the top of its head…and moved shoulder to shoulder with Lance as the mob ebbed and flowed around the masses of dolls. They allowed the swarm to do all the work of getting them away from the center, as they wiggled closer and closer to the edge of the throng.

*

JC closed his eyes, and following his mother's advice, trusted Lance, letting him pull and prod him in whatever direction he wanted to go. They inched their way around the electronics department, where the overflow from the toy department insanity trickled down to a few frantic stragglers.

“Come on, C. We’re good. Lemme pay for this and we’ll get out of here. Lonnie’s probably ready to have a cow.” Lance’s voice was quiet and reassuring in his ear. JC opened his eyes just in time to see a scared-looking cashier in front of him, nervously casting glances back into the pack. Gratefully, he grinned at her, and she smiled back, looking a little less panicky.

Lance paid quickly and they made good their escape to the parking lot. Lonnie was out of the car, pacing in front of it, and JC knew it was only his reluctance to argue with Lance that had kept him from coming into the store. JC hoped Lance was smart enough not to divulge all the details of what it was like inside that Target store, for the sake of a peaceful drive back home.

Lonnie eyed them suspiciously, and JC slipped his sunglasses on. For all he knew, he still looked as freaked out as he felt, and Lonnie knew him too well. Lonnie frowned, but didn’t say anything as they climbed into the big, black SUV.

JC was still clutching the Cabbage Patch Kid to his bosom, and he slowly held the box out so he could get a good look at the thing. He and Lance stared at it, it’s bloated face and bright blue eyes staring back at them. Lance started to giggle, then, and so did JC, although his laughter had a note of hysteria that seemed to be missing from Lance’s.

“Oh my God, JC, this here is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen up close. Ever. Chelsea really wants this?” He pried the box out of JC’s hands, and tilted it back and forth in the late morning sunshine filtering in through the tinted windows of the car. “Lord.”

JC closed his eyes and refused to look at the thing any more. “Yes, she really wants this. And you so owe me, Lance. You owe me big time,” he sighed, relaxing his head on the seatback, taking deep breaths, practically dizzy with relief now that they were safe.

Lance poked him. “Yep, I owe you.” He took the box out of JC’s hands and put it on the floor at his feet. He moved closer, snuffling JC’s neck. JC shivered. There was a world of promise in that snuffle.

Lonnie cleared his throat and glared at Lance in the rearview mirror. “No way, Bass, he growled. “That shit waits till you get home. If I wanted to watch that, I’d have stayed with the K-Feds.”

JC snorted and shoved Lance off him. “Be good, baby. Tyler’s got Chels for a couple more hours.” He knew from experience that there was only so much of that kind of stuff Lonnie would put up with, and he was sure Britney and Kevin had tested his tolerance to its very limits.

Lance settled back in his corner of the seat. “Okay, okay. You guys are no fun.” JC caught Lonnie’s eye and grinned at him. Lonnie shook his head, but he smiled back at JC.

“You got want she wanted, right? You sure? Cause I can go back there if you didn’t.” Lonnie would brave any number of crazy people for them, but there was such a thing as above and beyond the call of duty.

“No, no, man, this is cool. Appreciate the offer, though.” JC tipped his head to Lance’s shoulder. “Just get us home.”

[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/withdiamonds/pic/000by6ky/)

“I thought he’d never leave,” Lance drawled, leaning back against the kitchen door as it closed behind Lonnie. He _leered_ at JC, there was no other word for it. JC decided he liked it.

“Ready to pay up, dude?” JC smiled.

“If I do, will you stop acting like I’ve traumatized you for life? We’ve been through much scarier things, JC.” Lance was kind of stalking towards him as he talked, and JC backed away from him, mostly so he could watch the way he moved.

JC ducked his head. “I know.” He was already starting to feel better about the whole thing, but he didn’t want Lance to know that yet. He wanted to encourage this behavior as long as possible.

Lance grinned knowingly at him. He reached JC’s side, and threading a finger through his belt loop, pulled him close. “Come here.”

JC was happy to comply. Lance’s apology blowjobs were something very special, and he didn’t need to be told twice.

Afterwards, when he had made sure his head was still on the right way, and all his limbs were intact, he kissed Lance thoroughly and said, “Merry Christmas, man.”

[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/withdiamonds/pic/000bzg4g/)

**  
_How to avoid a stampede of shoppers_   
**

_  
**1) React immediately  
Stay focused and visualize your goal. Reacting early and decisively in crowds affords you your best shot at survival.**   
_

_  
**2) Do not join the herd  
You cannot shop if you cannot see the merchandise.**   
_

_  
**3) Do not move toward the herd  
You risk being trampled if you try to thread your way through a stampede. If you are unable to get out of the way, bring your arms in tightly around any packages you are carrying, turn your body in the direction of the crowd, and let yourself be carried along as you work your way to the outside.**   
_

_  
**4)Maximize your movement options  
If you need to negotiate your way through a crowd, stay on the edge. Most shoppers will leave at least a few feet between themselves and surrounding walls, so you will have room to maneuver. **   
_

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for both the Worst Case Scenario Challenge, and Bassez Day, 2005. It’s late for both of those things. I am a battle-scarred veteran of the Cabbage Patch Kids wars in the early 80’s, and I know what I’m talking about. Well, okay, I avoided the stores and made my mother-in-law buy them, but I remember it, seriously. Thanks to Mary, even though it’s not her kind of story, and Ashley, for whom I obtained several CPKs back in the day.


End file.
